Damon and Johnny here. Motorsport's answer to Ant and Dec, just a lot more comprehensible and, all in all, a wee bit taller. Between us we have about 100 years’ experience of driving cars quickly and have competed in 261 Grand Prix spawning 25 wins, 49 podiums, one World Championship and 458 championship points. We even have a win at Le Mans to our names, as well as two smashed ankles, a broken arm, a broken wrist, a broken leg, about sixty broken ribs, a pierced upper thigh that missed Johnny’s twig and berries by millimetres, and a bruised ego or three.Basically, we’re two middle-aged men who are both what you might call physically compromised. That said, contrary to popular belief, we still have a modicum of bladder control and can talk Formula 1 with the best of them. Which brings us to our book. Despite its immense popularity, when it comes to things like humour and absurdity, Formula 1 is not exactly a ride on the big dipper and in that respect it hasn’t buttered our parsnips for decades. Well, nil desperandum boys and girls because we, Damon Graham Devereux Hill, OBE, and John Paul Herbert, No BE, are here to put the F back into Formula 1 by ditching aerodynamics, clean air and tyre degradation in favour of honest, forthright opinions and apocryphal stories involving automotive derring-do. And, derring-don’t!